


Banana

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Chair Sex, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Kenma wears Tetsurou's oversized things, Kissing, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-18 01:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13089861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: Falling asleep like this, the most natural thing in the world; Kuroo’s hand brushing up and down his side, as if it belonged there to soothe him to sleep. With his nose on the hard stomach, rising and falling, Kenma cannot help but feel so at home. Kuroo’s scent and his touch, feeling all safe and relaxed, make him drift off and stop thinking.





	Banana

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freckleder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckleder/gifts).



> a 100 years ago I was lowkey into kuroken and really wanted to write for them. This is the only story I came up with after various inspo’s were they were depicted sleeping together and being cozy ([such as this!](http://robotsharks.tumblr.com/post/94471725160/permission-granted-by-the-artist-to)) I dont even know why ‘Banana’ sounded like such a good fic title back then… maybe bc I like sweet bananas with their brown spots and it reminds me of Kenma’s hair??  
> (I mean yes obviously I like the banana=dick thing but)  
> Funnily enough, there are no bananas in this fic. nor were bananas hurt in the making of it.
> 
> This is a christmas gift for the fabulous and beautiful AND SUPER TALENTED Ina~~~ Thanks for being my friend, thank you for that super sweet bookmark you made me (and that Shinsou!! All the hearts). It’s always fun and easy talking to you~~~ I hope you enjoy this little thing 8D
> 
> Pretty sure a million fics of this exist already but I love to write cozy and cute okay

“You know, cleaning up your room once in a while wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Kenma says over the tunes of a boss being beaten to a pulp, which rings through Tetsurou’s room. Accompanied by two thumbs and their vigourous attempts to destroy the gaming console. Tetsurou eyes Kenma lying on his bed, a tiny cushion beneath his arms. The handheld game above his face, one leg propped up, the other hooked over it. He watches him longer than necessary. Then his eyes drift towards where a pile of clothes, his upturned bag, and a heap of books.

“I did clean before you visited. Not that it matters; your eyes are on the screen anyway.” Playing with the pencil in his hand, Tetsurou scratches the back of his neck, where he’s slumped with his homework.

“Not always…” Kenma mumbles back, indignant. His brows furrow, and Tetsurou cannot differentiate if its because of the boss inside the game or because of Tetsurou himself.. 

“Lot of shade thrown by a guy who doesn’t bleach his hair properly anymore.”

“I told you-”

“Yeaaah, scalp got irritated bla bla. It looks tacky.”

“Says the king of wild bed hair… Ever thought of brushing it?”

“Whatever,” Tetsurou grins, dropping his pencil on his almost finished homework assignment, deeming procrastinating a good course of action. Dragging himself off the chair and to the pile of books. Once they’re all stacked, he takes the dirty clothes off the floor, leaves his room and puts it in the laundry. 

Returning to a room stuck in silence, Kenma leans over the edge of the bed, picking on the stack of books. His feet dangle in the air, while he grabs a book with two hands and randomly reads in the middle of it. Strangers might mistake it for active boredom. To Tetsurou’s eyes, it’s Kenma taking some time off from the game, and showing genuine interest in something to know what Tetsurou does in his own free time. 

After a moment’s consideration, Tetsurou drops on the bed, covering himself across Kenma’s back and lies down for a well-earned nap.

“Wha- wait a minute, you’re heavy.” Kenma’s irritation is music to his ears, the slight tremble in it urging Tetsurou’s hips to do something naughty. Although the position is very telling, he keeps it together and restrains deeper desires. Allowing himself to use Kenma’s head as a pillow and taking a whiff of his scent, camouflaged as simple inhaling.

“For such a tiny person, you sure take a lot of space. There’s nowhere else for me.” He slides an arm under Kenma’s, his nose hiding in the collar.

“You have homework to do,” Kenma protests, wriggling beneath. Tetsurou has to dip his knees in to put in some distance, before innocence would be tainted. He wouldn’t mind putting his hips to work and create friction between them; the pull to it so inviting. Instead, he focuses on the topic. 

“It can wait till later.”

“But you’re really heavy!” Kenma raises the book in his hand, trying to slap it behind him and hit Tetsurou. He’s off by a landslide.

“Switch with me then?” It’s been months since Kenma curled up to his side consciously. Tetsurou thought he’d never do it after that one time. For some reason that is beyond Tetsurou, Kenma can be timid and embarrassed about the most minute thing. 

“...Alright.” Kenma gives, sliding his arm holding the book towards the stack where he took it from. Surprised but pleased, Tetsurou towards the wall and on his side, waiting for Kenma- who runs off with the book to Tetsurou’s desk, curls up on the seat, and hides his face inside its pages. 

It would have been too good to be true.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

He sends Kenma outside for some extra work, instead of piling it on the first years. Moping how tired he is and grumbling how ‘Kuroo is evil’, Tetsurou watches him go, the scent of practice passing by. The actual cleaning gets done fairly quickly under Yamamoto’s supervision, and the place looks ready to be used tomorrow once more. Once Tetsurou is satisfied, he bids everyone goodbye. Making sure they’re all gone without stragging, Tetsurou flicks the lights out and closes the double doors. Knowing he won’t find Kenma to where he send him off (getting refreshments for them both), he finds his friend slumping lower and lower against a wall no one would see him. 

When he sees Tetsurou’s approach, Kenma sighs are of the sort that leaves a piece of his soul to the air. He actually slides all the way to the grass as if it is his safe haven from Tetsurou’s demands.

“Please… no more… I don’t want to do extra training,” Kenma groans, letting Tetsurou chuckle as he steps closer to the heap, crouching and patting his back. The jersey Kenma threw over himself feels like a second skin, damp with sweat. That won’t do; Tetsurou grabs Kenma’s bag, rummaging for an extra shirt and sweater he always has with him. 

Then, like it's the easiest and most normal thing to do, Tetsurou helps him undress. He pulls Kenma’s shirt up, and over the outstretching arms, and away from the now half sitting up form. Kenma huffs when the evening breeze tests his skin. It’s not too cold out, Tetsurou would believe, but Kenma gets cold too easily. A sudden pull brings Tetsurou’s legs to straddle Kenma’s. His fingers trail a line from Kenma’s wrists over the bare arms, until he meets the tense shoulders.

Tetsurou’s eyes drop to Kenma’s pants, and a devilish grin takes over his face. 

“I can undress you further, if you want.” It’s a joke, and the hit on his arm deserved. Sitting upright once more without his back touching the granite behind him, Kenma watches the door, eyes lazy. Playful, Tetsurou reaches behind himself, pulling Kenma’s knee braces down low. The moment comes to a halt when Kenma’s leg wobble under him. Tetsurou sits up, letting Kenma pull up his knees. He watches as Kenma loops arms around them, still staring at the long-vacanted gym entrance, mesmerized.

“Do you, hypothetically speaking.., think...nh. _Consider_ \- do you think I look- could be thought of as attractive?”

“No, you’re ugly.” Tetsurou grins, regretting it the moment he sees eyebrows drawn together, the face belonging to them vexed. Opening his mouth, Tetsurou waits as he watches Kenma pull his extra shirt and sweater out of his bag to dress himself. “I’m kidding, sheesh. What’s with the question anyway?” 

Tetsurou sits back a little, his knees rubbing over the damp grass. Leaning forward, he puts his arms on Kenma’s knees, his chin on top. He’s learned it’s better to approach Kenma by looking smaller when he wanted to hear the truth faster. It doesn’t help that his shoulders have widened in the past year, and that his hair just sprouted up, undefeatable. 

“Don’t tell me there’s a girl in your life,” Tetsurou says, keeping his face straight. He would have noticed. Should have seen it coming a mile away if— 

“And what if?” Kenma stares back, irritation gone, his cheeks untainted by the touches or the topic. Tetsurou doesn’t show it, but he feels an unkind venom mixing in with his blood, and his shoulders tensie. He would’ve never missed something this important, he would have known if Kenma had fallen in love with someone. Either he’s teasing him, or he holds secrets. Tetsurou doesn’t like the sound of either.

“I suggest you colour your hair before you date her-”

“I’m serious.” Kenma’s fists lightly punch Tetsurou’s elbows, hurting himself more than doing actual harm to Tetsurou. Unmoving, Tetsurou stills his breathing with what should seem as normal inhales and exhales through his nose. 

“Asking me of all people about your looks is a bit, you know… _eeeh_ ,” Tetsurou says, lifting his hand to wiggle it. The grin on his lips is fake and he knows Kenma would be able to tell. Instead, he distracts him by lifting his arm from beneath his chin, letting his fingers trail in a soft caress at the inside of Kenma’s thigh. It’s intimate and inappropriate, but Kenma has let him do stranger things. “If you like someone, you should go for it. It’s not the end if she doesn’t like you in return. I don’t think the way you look should matter a lot, so don’t worry about it.”

“So you think...?” Kenma is cruel. Tetsurou exhales through his nose, closes his eyes.

“You need to hear me say it? You look fine, alright. Stop worrying about that stuff.” Nails dig in the sensitive and flawless skin, earning Kenma’s hiss. Tetsurou apologizes as silent as he can manage, a murmur against his own arm. There’s a fingernail-small, red dint where he scratched Kenma. Unruly black hair gets ruffled by a soft hand, an apology on its own for whatever Kenma thinks he has to say sorry for.

“Tell me about her.”

“...Huh?”

“The chick, the girl you like.”

“T-there is no girl…” Kenma stammers, Tetsurou looks up, face blank, lids dropped, watching how Kenma avoids his face and looking anywhere else. “Like I said. Pure hypothetical.” 

Below Tetsurou’s arms, Kenma’s legs fidget, feet patting up and down. Tetsurou doesn’t understand the sudden shyness. 

He gets up, lending Kenma a hand, then turns to his own bag for a clean shirt. He changes right then and there, pulling one filthy shirt off, and dressing in another one. Tetsurou racks his brains if he’s seen any girls in Kenma’s presence during the last few weeks. If he says there is none, Tetsurou believes it. But the off-chance exist he’s just too timid for the subject. About to zip his Nekoma jersey up to his chest, Tetsurou startles as a palm lies flat on his back.

Glancing over his shoulder he sees Kenma, ready to go. Distracted by his eyes, the same ones he has known all his life, Tetsurou can see excitement in them. Then, he’s prodded in a rather ticklish place to his lower-left side, making him laugh before he turns to swat Kenma’s hand away. He grabs his friend’s wrists and pulls the surprised pudding-head to himself. Embracing Kenma tightly, Tetsurou rubs the back of the duo-coloured hair as he pushes his nose on top of the dark brown crown. The struggle of fists against his sides are futile. Too soon in a couple of days, Tetsurou lets baser instincts of want for warmth move his body.

“There’s nothing you wouldn’t be able to tell me, is there? You can share with me anything. Right, Kenma?” He’s dead serious, one hand flattening on top of Kenma’s head, while the other places at the lower back. Becoming still, Kenma nods, not struggling for once.

Inhaling deeply as he’s freed of Tetsurou’s hold, Kenma grabs his bag off the floor, glancing towards it before he manages to eye Tetsurou.

“I didn’t lie. There really is no girl.” He leaves first, Forcing his facial structure to smile it off, Tetsurou follows his friend’s footsteps. 

At least he left another mark on him. Even if it's just a fingernail indent.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Kenma didn’t know what madness took over him. What kind of possession had taken place between classes. Maybe he was food poisoned and his brain took such damage that he cannot be held accountable for his actions. 

All he knows is that after making sure that Tetsurou knew he wasn’t interested in girls, someone in his class had the courage to confess to Tetsurou. Kenma had seen it all happen a few stairs above, hating to eavesdrop, but impossible to pull away from it. He watched Tetsurou apologize to the girl that sat a few rows beside Kenma in class. Even as she ran off to the hallway Kenma couldn’t see, the dread in his chest didn’t lift. He had walked a few steps down, unsure if he should confront or comfort Tetsurou.

His friend’s sharp eyes had seen him, met him halfway.

And now Kenma was here, caught in a moment where his hands had run over Tetsurou’s shoulders, grabbing a hold. He was one step above him, evening out their height different by a little. Despite the situation and the embarrassment, Kenma couldn’t look away from Tetsurou, who just stood there, waiting. As if they had all the time in the world. As if they weren’t standing in the middle of the stairs. As if their bubble extended to the staircase and stop anyone from interrupting them. 

Kenma pushes himself forwards, letting his body create momentum, and his lips brush over Tetsurou’s in a heartbeat. His eyes fluttered close, and at the same time that his tongue brushes over Tetsurou’s yet closed seam, he finds himself cocooned by his arms looping around his frame. Then Tetsurou does this strange thing of angling his head and deepening their kiss, as if he’s been waiting so long for it to happen. Kenma had felt it somewhere, this need to be closer than just the touchy cuddle sessions in their private areas, the lingering touches and looks Tetsurou threw his way. Always hovering, waiting for Kenma’s ‘ok go’ sign to do more than just that.

When they part, Tetsurou’s breathing is a bit faster on Kenma’s lips, before he smiles.

“That was nice… dunno where it came from, but I don’t mind it from happening again.”

“It seems that I am the jealous type that needs a threat to happen…” Kenma sighs, head down as he mumbles the words. His hands play around at Tetsurou’s neck, his ears attentive to the sound of fabric rustling, of possible passers by invading. Tetsurou lets the moment stretch a little longer, before descending the stairs.

“Let’s find the rest and eat our lunches, huh? If Lev hasn’t started yet.”

“He probably has,” Kenma replies, feeling lighter as they go down the stairs and towards the canteen area. The distraction of his teammates would be welcome, although he doesn’t know how much he can eat when there’s a flurry of action in his guts.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“Can we lie down and...and just chill?” Forcing himself to keep looking at Tetsurou, he sees the lazy face gentling up, shoulders shrugging to the ceiling.

“Cool with me.” It’s been like this for some time; agreeing to anything Kenma might want or won’t do. Kenma figures it’s because Tetsurou is afraid of losing something or using a too fast a pace. He doesn’t want to take advantage of this fear, yet unable to beat down his own and open up in ways Tetsurou would allow him too. There was no guessing involved to what Tetsurou wants, really. He’s been so obvious and demanding in a way that had Kenma’s blood run warmer and faster through his veins. But Tetsurou moves were calculated and slow. If he wasn’t absolutely sure Kenma wants something, he wouldn’t do it. The touches and occasional longer-lasting hugs happen more often nowadays, ever since Kenma said there was no one else in his life to be interested in.

And Kenma himself didn’t know what he wanted. Not long-term like. He only knew what felt good in the moment, what he could be ready for if he tried.

The bed doesn’t creak when Kenma lies down, the sound rising when Tetsurou hovers over him on all fours. Trapped by the fourposter-human, Kenma looks away, his hands shooting up and pressing against the chest, pushing the weight threatening the boundaries of his personal space. Halting, brows twisted and further unreadable, Tetsurou stares at him. There’s stuff he can do, like lying next to his larger, best friend. But some stuff is yet impossible to even think of.

"I don't want-" Kenma doesn’t finish his sentence. Tetsurou’s arm sneaks below him, lifting, before he falls to his sides and rolls over.

The new outlook isn't an improved version of the last; lying on top, Kenma feels embarrassment heat up his neck. His whole body lies on top of Tetsurou, who doesn't seem displeased by the weight. Arm on his back, fingers limp, waiting for Kenma to make a move. Which he does, shaking his head before grumbling that this is embarrassing.

No sigh leaves the lips when they flip to the side, Tetsurou's other arm embracing him close. The warmth emanating from him heats up Kenma's skin, making his fingertips and toes all tingly. Pushing with his elbows, he turns around, trying to get away from the protruding eyes and their warm looks, lips too close and fingers too tame. The arms do not leave, however, hands roaming his front, Tetsurou's chest curves in his back. The softest touch of lips kissing the nape of his neck caress Kenma into a near-submission to let deep sighs escape from his mouth. Tetsurou’s pleased hums vibrate against Kenma’s skin, sending shivers down his spine, waves of a beginning ecstasy he doesn’t feel like succumbing in right now. 

Curling in further on himself, Kenma swats the persistent hands off him.

"Sheesh, do you _have_ to!?" He dislikes the stiffening of joints, halting, crumbling, the rustle of fabrics when Tetsurou lies on his back, no single part of him connected to Kenma. No matter how irritating, embarrassing, or penetrating things had become, this is even worse.

"I get it, I get it. 'Lie down and chill', I won't bother you. Sorry for misunderstanding," Tetsurou says, his voice having a never-before tune of defeat in it. Kenma feels so stupid for what he does, how his inexperience has him reacting. He considers his options, weighs the consequences, then turns away from Tetsurou and lies on his side. Unable to see Tetsurou's face, he can calm down a little. 

Unmoving, time goes by, and at last Kenma swings his body around. Tetsurou has an arm over his head, hiding below. The other lies more idle atop of his chest. Kenma's fingers slide below that arm, pushing Tetsurou’s arm away. When there’s enough room, Kenma puts his head on Tetsurou's chest, bumping his knees against the stretched out leg of his friend, his hand close to his mouth where he puts it on Tetsurou's shirt.

It takes a moment longer than he likes, but at last Tetsurou's push away arm wraps itself around Kenma’s shoulders, fingers curling over the bend. Tetsurou relaxes when Kenma sighs in relief. 

“I’m sorry… I freaked a little,” Kenma whispers, lips hardly off the shirt he breathes the words out over. Taking in Tetsurou’s scent, he wonders how he’s even able to maintain Kenma’s moodswings. The laugh Tetsurou puffs out resonates through his chest and close to Kenma’s head, filling the latter with warmth.

“Nothing to be sorry of. I should be for pushing too much,” Tetsurou replies. Kenma could fall asleep on the rise and fall of Tetsurou’s chest, the heartbeat he hears directly below his ear.

“What… what did you want to do anyway?”

“Making out for a bit.”

“Mhn.” Kenma leans up, testing out how it feels like to slid one of his legs over Tetsurou’s. He feels colour blossoming from his cheeks when he does, as his thigh lies flat against Tetsurou’s limp manhood. Eyes focused on the neck, the few veins he can see, Kenma pushes on higher still. Until his lips connect with Tetsurou’s. His hair is brushed out of his face, and Tetsurou curves another hand around Kenma’s head, deepening the kiss one second at the time. 

When Kenma replies the same, Tetsurou’s tongue slides in with hunger, to chase a taste. His laugh is small within their shared breath. He does most of the work, guiding Kenma’s head when need be. 

They pause, start anew, lazy in their circle. When Kenma has enough, he hides his head below Tetsurou’s chin, liking the hum vibrating at his crown. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

He thinks he’s still dreaming when the visions appears. It’s a sleepy Kenma, rubbing the sleep off his eyes as he enters the kitchen space in search for his morning milk. Nothing new there, except he’s wearing Tetsurou’s jersey. Almost 20 cm difference and with a slighter build, the hem off the shirt runs past the thighs, hiding the newest bites and bruises. From behind, the red shirt flows over Kenma’s ass. Tetsurou stares without shame, unable to see a trace of underwear. 

After a glass of milk is consumed, Kenma peeks at him, pulling a few strands of hair behind his ear, his eyes searching, lips slightly opened and Tetsurou can hear the breathing quicken. He knows something is up with his friend, who finally turns and comes nearer.

Hands on Tetsurou’s shoulder for stability, he lifts a leg and settles down to straddle Tetsurou. Hisheart gives out when he sees, and feels, Kenma’s bare ass on top of his sweatpants. Accompanied by a hardness that lays flat on top of the line of hair on his abdomen, hidden by the Nekoma shirt. He feels his brain giving up to process everything he sees and feels. Jaw-dropping to say the least, Kenma surprises him further by kissing him, nothing chaste or innocent about the tongue darting in first. 

Closing his eyes and going with the arousing events unfolding, he places his hands on the thighs, smirking and kissing back, tasting the fresh milk. As if the outfit wasn’t enough, Kenma tightens his fingers on the bare shoulders, sharp edges melting like butter under the pressure, grinding his rear on Tetsurou’s lap, eager to please (he thanks whatever deity there is to thank for his laziness of not putting his boxershorts on as well). Unable to ask what the fuck is going on, Tetsurou rolls with it, one hand sliding beneath the hem of his own shirt on Kenma’s skin, rounding up the firm butt, about to rub the hole, when his finger slides in with ease— 

“Damn, Kenma…” He breathes on open lips before they’re off and to his jawline, peckering him with tiny kisses. “Jesus, you- when did you-”

“Bathroom. Before I came down.” Staring into a void while his earlobe is being teased, Tetsurou slides his finger in and out an already lubricated entrance, his breathing becoming shallow. The hard cock he feels must have been worked up before as well. The thought of Kenma doing all this confuses him, although it’s endearing and definitely very hot. 

“I can blow you...if you want- if you want to-” Kenma’s words don’t make it out before Tetsurou grabs the blond hair fondly, making Kenma turn to him, asking again what the hell has gotten into Kenma. It’s not even his birthday yet.

Kenma doesn’t even blush because of what he’s doing, but tries to look away still. Tetsurou takes him by the chin and makes sure he can’t avoid him. “I don’t mind, not in the least, trust me. I’m all-in if you want it bad.” 

Ceasing the hips’ movement, Kenma seems to want to reply, but shakes his head instead, stammering. 

“We never do anything much or long because I can’t but… I don’t want you to think that I don’t like it or don’t want to do it…”

“Hey, eyes on me.” Tetsurou is touched and fucking ecstatic to have Kenma on him like this, and he kisses the sweetest lips he’s ever known. He’s never thought of Kenma as fragile, but he had to pace himself a lot when he was with him. He couldn’t just take him in bed whenever he wanted. Kenma’s moods were fluttering, and could flame up at odd intervals, such as this. “Even if you were, I wouldn’t mind. And I’d understand if you don’t want to do this-”

“But I do, a lot. I think of it a lot when I should be doing other things...” Kenma’s expression is fiery albeit his shy and flustered layers. Tetsurou grins, whispers how he can fucking feel it all over his lap. 

“Then by all means. Seduce me…” They meet in a feverish kiss, which goes too quick and without any technique, only serving the hot need they both feel rising between them. Kenma’s hands slips below Tetsurou’s waistband, whispering his name while he takes the shaft in hand. Their breathing stutters, Tetsurou’s more and more, as his member hardens under Kenma’s caress. 

The waistband disturbs the wrist from moving freely, pushing Tetsurou to the decision to find a better place. He tells Kenma to loop his arms completely around his neck, his own hands going below his boyfriend’s knees, and he stands up with his arms heavy of Kenma’s weight. Putting him on the table, they both each use one hand to lower his sweatpants, freeing his cock to be able for a full petting. His breathing shallows while he pushes a hand below one of Kenma’s buttscheeks, happy when his friend leans forward enough so that Tetsurou can continue to finger him. 

 

Their foreheads bump together, the most natural touch even before they became steady. Tetsurou locks his eyes on Kenma’s, panting as Kenma holds his gaze and his wrist flicks and snaps in ways Tetsurou likes best. Tetsurou’s thighs press into the table’s edge, between Kenma’s thighs, the feeling of soft and inviting legs driving him crazy with want. The too-large shirt creates an excellent opening to the shoulder areas, leaving him no option or reason to refuse the dip of his head and graze his teeth, before he sucks up unmarked skin.

Their dicks touch on a few occasions, likewise their open-mouthed kisses brush every few seconds when Tetsurou can be distracted from his love-mark creations. Kenma finds better use for that, trailing down Tetsurou’s exposed neck, tongue licking the line between his peck. His hands, sadly also the one previous engaged with something better to do, hold on Tetsurou’s sides while he drops lower still, pushing so his nose can run down the line of hair leading to Tetsurou’s cock. A flexibility Tetsurou hadn’t known Kenma has in him displays as his back curves and curves. 

“Kenma, wait.” His arm not long enough to keep up a steady rhythm to finger Kenma, his hand goes up the shirt and rubbing the lower back, holding the brown-blond hair with his other hand to hold off something pleasurable.

“You’re right.” The breathless tones weakens his knees, and the agility and grace in which Kenma jumps off the table bring his mind back from the abyss he almost fell into. Kenma leans up, standing on tiptoes, waiting for Tetsurou to kiss him before they dance around, hungry. With one open eye, Tetsurou leads them to the refrigerator, holding Kenma’s hands and stops the kiss.

“How about here?”

“Sure, fine with me.” Dropping to his knees and pulling the sweatpants completely down, Kenma places one hand on Tetsurou’s hip (who steps out and kicks the heap of his last garment away), holding his cock with the other, and loses no time to take the tip into his mouth. Willing his eyes to stay open and take in the sight, he sees Kenma’s eyes close, tongue swirling the tip before he pushes his mouth all over it, tongue-tip teasing the slit and making Tetsurou cry out. Whatever he can’t fit into his mouth, Kenma strokes, timing upwards stroke with a downward suck. 

Tetsurou places one hand on the head, enjoying the quick and dirty prep. Urging the head to go a little faster, a little to the side _and right there_ , when he opens his mouth to let out long, unashamed moans.

“Fuck, babe-” He exhales, this head thumps against the fridge for a single moment. Tetsurou does not want to miss anything and looks down to find Kenma’s lips wrapped around his cock. He feels the flat tongue licking underneath, half-lidded eyes watching him. Ever since they started doing it, Kenma had to concentrate, close his eyes, only to open them like this, downright filthy, and create a whirl storm inside of Tetsurou’s stomach. 

“Damn, you’re so perfect at this…” Tetsurou watches for a few seconds longer, taking in how the red shirt slides off one shoulder, how the hem rides up the thighs, hiding Kenma’s own need. 

It’s that thought which makes Tetsurou pull at Kenma’s hair, dying at the slowest pace mankind could think off, when the lips make a show on moving at glacial pace off his shaft. Even then, the tongue gives the another final lick, humming at the taste of pre-come. Tetsurou refrains from tugging at the hair any longer, composing the best he can. 

“Stand up and turn. Hands where I can see them,” Tetsurou says, watching Kenma do as told. He then presses himself against the curve of the lithe body. Kenma spreads his legs to offer himself up to Tetsurou, who slides his manhood inside the lubricated, wet hole.Hands folding over Kenma’s hips and splaying them wide, he gently nudges himself in, teases with a few empty strokes. Watching Kenma, he then puts his own hands over the slightly smaller ones. He presses Kenma against the surface, until he hears him whimper, his hips pacing going up and up..

“Oh God…” Kenma sighs. Unable to hold back, Tetsurou keeps his smile off his face, leaning in to whisper in the burning red ear.

“He can’t help you now, Kenma. I’m going to destroy you…” 

Leaning back to look down and take in the glorious sight, he grins once more at Kenma, who presses his forehead shyly to the surface, tensing up. While he thinks that Tetsurou might be the one to break from such a little play and press, the latter licks his lips. He just loves teasing Kenma once he’s allowed to do so. Sliding out after a few more thrusts, Tetsurou goes on his knees behind Kenma, his tongue eager to lick the entrance. 

“F-fuck! Tetsu, what the- Ah! Mhhh,” Kenma’s higher moans muffle against the sleek fridge door. They come through teeth pressing down on his bottom lip, trying to be silent. Tetsurou takes his time tasting and teasing, enjoying the writhing body unable to hold back and lean towards his kisses. 

He lets one of his hands cover the perfect ass, as the other loops around Kenma’s stomach. He wants to give him some sort of hold and make sure he won’t falter. Taking a firm hold of Kenma’s neglected shaft, he gives it a few strokes before he stills the hand, concentration back on what his tongue is doing. Pushing the slick tongue in, licking slow circles, loving how Kenma loses it without a trace of inhibition. Hearing his name in prayer-ish chants, incoherent sentences broken by curses, pleading alongside of the ass slowly moving. 

Wanting to do anything Kenma would enjoy, Tetsurou sits back as much as he can, bending his neck to let Kenma sit down as much as it is possible, letting him ride the tongue for a minute before his knees give out. Tetsurou holds him upright and makes sure he doesn’t fall. 

Letting him catch his breath first, Tetsurou stands up, thumb circling the hip. Leaning in close, he checks on Kenma, making sure he’s alright. He once made him come by licking his asshole and fingering it, leaving him boneless, trembling, and unable to speak a syllable. Running his nose along the cartilage, he waits until Kenma turns his head for a peck on Tetsurou’s jaw, nodding that’s he’s alright and that they can continue making love.

Softer than before when he was acting, he requests Kenma to turn towards him this time. Leaning back on the refrigerator, arms loosely at Tetsurou’s neck, Kenma looks up to him, completely at ease. 

“Do you want me to keep the shirt on?”

Tetsurou considers for a moment, tilting his head to his side and looking serious. When Kenma designed his wicked plan to wreck Tetsurou, the shirt played out a big deal. Plus, he wouldn’t mind at all having it smell like Kenma and their love.

“Yeah, keep it on, it’s really sexy.” He likes how Kenma blush is more a fact of the warmth he feels rather than feeling embarrassed. Seriously into it, Tetsurou dips his face low and to his side, love-whispering more idiotic things in Kenma’s ear while he bends his knees, lifting Kenma up to settle him on top of Tetsurou’s thighs. 

Unable to shy his head away from the words, Kenma is left defenseless when Tetsurou kisses him, first chaste and all over the place until he laughs, then slow, deep, mouth to mouth, when he lines up and pushes himself in within that welcoming heat only meant for him. Kenma tenses; his nails dig into Tetsurou’s neck, the knees dig below his ribs, teeth pull at his bottom lip when he slowly retreats and snaps back up. As slowly as he goes, he unravels Kenma, who thumps his head back, mouth slacking, eyes closed.

“Tetsu…” Kenma sighs onto Tetsurou’s throat, who has one of his hands down low to squeeze the ass he’s rocking himself into. He has to take a step forward and make sure he has Kenma tight in his graps, so he’ll be able to do those quick thrusts later. Tetsurou rubs his nose to Kenma’s for attention, making him open his eyes and lock them with his when he pulls back and rams it in. 

He cannot get enough of the sight and sound; Kenma’s slack mouth widening, an empty cry too silent to hear, eyes shutting close. Tetsurou snaps his hips up to ram his cock in deep, speeding up while his mouth opens to moan loud at Kenma’s ear, licking it when their skin slaps together with every thrust.

Accustomed to the fill inside of him and the pace Tetsurou sets, Kenma locks his legs tightly at the lower back, using the strength he has left to move on top of Tetsurou’s dick, impaling himself.

“Feels so good...when you’re inside… of me. Aah, Tetsu…” Kenma’s mouth wobbles at the end, a strangled cry running over his lips and into Tetsurou’s wild heart. Hoping Kenma is strong enough to keep that iron hold, Tetsurou moves one of his hands up to the elbow, touching it slightly before pulling it down. Kenma understands, waits until the shirt is pushed up, revealing his own hardness, enabled to pump it in time with Tetsurou’s thrust.

“Yeah? It feels good when I, aah... fuck you, mhnn, does it…” Tetsurou’s voice feels like gravel to himself, so raspy and deep. But Kenma is irresistible, especially when he nods a confirmation. His fingers trace a path into Tetsurou’s unruly mass of black hair. He grabs it tight, pulls Tetsurou’s face to his, kisses him as good as he can with a rapid tongue, and their mouths full of groans and curses.

“You’re so warm, Kenma… And so damn fucking sweet,” Tetsurou doesn’t recognize that softness in his voice, that helpless wonder. He brings both his hands over Kenma’s behind, moving him. Tetsurou gives it another squeeze, putting his forehead to Kenma’s when he feels the known edge drawing closer. He sees it in Kenma’s eyes as well, while the hand quickens the movements. 

“Y-your shirt,” 

“Aim for me, babe, come... over me…” He leans in to whisper into Kenma’s ear, knowing how the kid loses it quicker when he’s dirty with him, Kenma’s head tilts to the side when he receives it. “You’re going to clean it up for me, lick your come off and kiss me. I want to taste it, Kenma, I want to taste it so badly…” 

Tetsurou grins when Kenma’s moans grow more frequent and louder still, knows he’s hitting the prostate with every hard thrust. It doesn’t take a lot more, and Kenma’s seed unloads all over Tetsurou’s abdomen. Feeling the white fluid run low, seeing Kenma’s complete state of unmaking, and feeling the ass tighten on his cock, Tetsurou grinds his teeth and groans, knowing he’s almost there. Kenma, merciless in his turn, licks his ear, telling him to come deep inside and ride it all out, which pushes him over the edge, and he bites Kenma’s neck when he comes. 

Unseeing, Testurou keeps Kenma close, kissing and stumbling back. They started on a chair, and Tetsurou hopes he can find it without them crashing. Their bodies are so wet with sweat and their come, and once he finds the chair, he misses like a fool, and crashes. Kenma doesn’t even complain, crawling over Tetsurou to kiss his ears. 

Opening his eyes to an angelic sight, Tetsurou watches Kenma putting his ass a little up, letting Testurou’s shirt slide over his lower back. Not needing any more clues or a verbal invitation, Tetsurou reaches out to finger him, coating the fingers in his own seed until he has enough to push into Kenma’s waiting mouth. He licks the fingers clean, eyes closed and humming, before he falls on top of Tetsurou’s torso. 

“Fuck you…”

“You just did babe,” Tetsurou chuckles, his hand soothing the after-shivers with his hands, Kenma’s trembling the icing on the fucking cake. 

“No, I can’t move anymore.”

“Don’t worry, I got you.” Leaning down, Tetsurou kisses Kenma’s forehead, making him sit up on his lap. Getting up is a hassle, but he gathers his sweatpants, makes sure they leave nothing behind (he’ll clean the stains on the refrigerator later…) and wobbles up the stairs to a much needed shower. Kenma hugs him tight, shirt still on him.

“You should wear my stuff more often… It really gets my blood going,” Tetsurou starts saying, noticing the words, then laughs into Kenma’s hair, who hits him.

“Stupid Kuro…” 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The rainfall is sudden and heavy, thunder and lightning breaking the sky. The dark clouds stretch on for as far as Kenma can see. It’s an absolute hassle. He knew he could opt to stay at Tetsurou’s, but they’ve been together more often in the past month than they’d been apart. It shouldn’t matter, and Kenma doesn’t feel like he needs his alone time but,,,

“Here, were this over your head. My mom keeps taking all the umbrellas and forgets to return them…” Tetsurou says, putting his Nekoma jersey jacket over Kenma’s head. 

“But-”

“No protest. It’s cozy, right? Wearing something larger,” Tetsurou says, his smile warm. There’s a tease hinting in the corner of his mouth, but neither of them allude to the fact what happened three times now that Kenma wore something of Tetsurou’s… They were starting to develop a serious kink. Not that Kenma dislikes it; the opposite is more than true. Wearing Tetsurou’s clothes was cozy, and the added effect of making Tetsurou horny hadn’t bothered Kenma in the least. 

Hiding in the larger team jacket, Kenma zipped turns to him, standing on his toes when Tetsurou’s warm ans secure hands brush over his jaw. They kiss standing in the safety of Tetsurou’s tiny porch, as the rain drips and falls behind Kenma. 

He makes a mental note to make some erotic pictures wearing this jacket, and only it.


End file.
